Looking for a dash of old-man wisdom.

There is nothing more effective to get you to back to basics than spending time with the little people in your life. 

Simplicity, beauty and wonder is reignited through the eyes of a toddler or infant. We had the pleasure of entertaining our two grandchildren this weekend, farm style. The world through the eyes of a two-year-old is sweet and new and full of adventures. She is excited by the hens, pecking wheat from her pudgy little hands and gets equally frustrated when they won’t come and get food, when she calls them. She squeals with delight when the cows, 10 times her size, wrap their tongue around her fingers, trying to grab the bread she is holding and meant to be throwing to them to eat. She finds the bread soft and squishy and inevitably it ends up in her mouth, instead of theirs. She is learning to ‘ride a bike’ and delights with being pushed down the bumpy driveway. It’s like four-wheel driving, toddler style. In her element, she revels in feeding a new calf, nearly as big as she is, perfect cuddle size. She is learning to call him Nudge and confidently runs her hands over his thick, velvety coat. For her, a weekend on the farm, is full of new opportunities and when we take the time to see it through her eyes, it is indeed, very special. Our youngest grandson, at eight months old, is new to the world of Rivergum, just starting to notice the sights and sounds around him. Rugged up for the winter cold, he giggled his way along as he walked on the laying boxes and looked quizzically as the hens milled around his feet looking for more food. Sitting comfortably in his pram, also successfully traversing the rugged road, he seemed fascinated by the three dogs around him and the strange noises the mother cow was making, while confined into the cattle crush. It is easy to let life get complicated. I know it is of late, and maybe a weekend back to the basics is what the doctor ordered. 

In contrast, only last weekend, we celebrated my father-in-law’s 90^th birthday. Once again, surrounded by relatives and friends to mark the occasion, I could not help but see some similarities with the needs of our little people. Love, laughter, warmth, comfort and appreciation for the simple things in life were the common threads. 

My father-in law is an amazing man. He lives

independently, still cooks for his large brood and all their off spring, plays bowls, helps out on the farm and enjoys nothing more than a trip up bush to relax. He does not dwell on the complicated anymore, he has had his share of celebrations and tragedies in his long life, and now seems to exude a sense of peace and contentment, enjoying the most important things in his life – his family.
So, I am now left to learn from my grandchildren and my father in-law and take lessons from those that have lived wisely and those still to navigate this amazing journey we call life.

Some days I think we do remarkably well, relishing in the joys and challenges the farm, our own large brood and the many connections we have made in our lifetime present to us, but I must confess, in this past week I am feeling particularly bombarded with complications and the need to make decisions. Some days I crave for the simplicity of childhood where decisions are the issues of the grown-ups, or the days of retirement where people have learnt not to give a hoot about some issues or what other people might think. There is freedom in both ages at the beginning and the end of the life circle.

Age is a peculiar concept. It is naturally the chronological record of how long we are alive, it sets the parameters for when we can achieve certain things such as school entry, driver’s licenses, voting and when we retire. We make judgements according to people’s age – he is too young for that, she is too old for this, she can’t wear that at her age, he should know better at his age. We celebrate the collection of years with gifts, parties and cake, it is a tradition passed down from ages gone by and one I suspect will continue for generations yet to be. However, it seems there are few guidelines for the middle years. It has been long accepted that by the time you reach your forties you are less inclined to be influenced by others or fashions or social expectations, there is sense of , I’m nearing fifty therefore, I need to do what I want, in the time I have left. Essentially half my life is already over and I’m not wasting anymore on people who really don’t rate that highly in my world – anymore. Problem is, that has not quite happened to me, and I find myself battling with anxiety because I know my actions will impact on other people and that bothers me.

Try as I may, neither my day job nor the farm, my children or my husband can distract me for too long. My mind has a terrible habit of churning over troubles, whether I am busy or idle. It follows me into my dreams and sets itself into the crevices of my mind without invitation. My mind is in turmoil. I think I’m tired of thinking too much, the inability to let go, the subconscious need to be considerate of others, the conscious knowing of being used and tossed aside. 

Right now, I need a little more toddler-time with a dash of old-man wisdom.

Until next time,

N